Disenchanted
by tere moto the sentry
Summary: Kyle can't live with Fanboy and Chum Chum, and he can't live without them. Short stories mainly about the wizard and his two favorite ninnies.
1. Teeth

Disclaimer: "Fanboy and Chum Chum" belongs to Eric Robles and Nickelodeon.

**Teeth**

"Psst—Chum Chum! Look what I can do." With pencils raised in preparation (their erasers chewed down to the metal casing), Fanboy advanced with all the silence and grace of the ninja he often aspired to be. His target was a softly snoring classmate nearby. Kyle the Conjurer had spent most of the previous night brewing an invisibility potion—an extensive process and a delicate concoction requiring constant monitoring—and was now making up for lost sleep at his desk, using his (rather disgruntled) Necronomicon as a pillow.

Fanboy peered over the wizard, the three exposed teeth easily accessible. After glancing back to make sure Chum Chum was still watching, the elder superhero began tapping the (would-be) eraser ends of his pencils on Kyle's protruding teeth, the metal ends chiming against them like a xylophone. While his sidekick preformed an impressively noiseless dance, Fanboy expertly played the ManArctica theme song. However, he insisted on finishing the tune even as Kyle stirred, and managed to strike the last note as the other boy woke.

"What? What is the meaning of this?" the conjurer demanded.

"You make the best instrument I've ever heard, Kyle!" Chum Chum approved.

Kyle, however, shot a very disapproving glare at Fanboy, who blinked obliviously. He then offered his school chum the pencils.

"Oh, I'm sorry; did you wanna try?"

Kyle's glare sharpened.

"Any…requests?"

"I _request_ that you leave me alone!" the rudely awakened boy repositioned his head on the spell book, inciting muffled (and unheeded) protests from the talking tome.

"Make that _'demand',_" Kyle added, and hid his teeth behind one arm to bar Fanboy from repeating the offense. Never minding that his skinny arm barely covered the enormous incisors.

"I don't know what those braces are for," Fanboy mused. "Those teeth will never fit back in his mouth."


	2. Kids

**Kids**

Kyle Bloodworth-Thomason had never been quite so comfortable around other children. Having no siblings or cousins meant he had been raised almost solely around adults. And going to a formal boarding school—not to mention the barrage of elder tutors—wore out the use of "Yes sir", "No madam", and "Good morning, Professor" on his tongue. Over the years, the boy had come to connect more with adults, and in fact had come to consider himself one in his preteen years.

This attitude manifested itself particularly on this typical morning at Galaxy Hills Elementary, wherein Fanboy had put into action his "best idea ever"—turning Mr. Mufflin's classroom into a carnival; himself running the student-desk Ferris wheel and Chum Chum manning the pencil-dart toss. Normally Kyle did enjoy carnivals, but bathroom dunking booths and the Spitball Championships weren't exactly his cup of tea. So he sat at his desk reading; a magical force field surrounding him as a shield from all the paper airplanes and unknown substances flying around the room.

He then happened to glance up and notice that his teacher was also taking cover—holding an open book over his head as he graded papers. Feeling a sort of kinship with the like-minded Mr. Mufflin, Kyle waved a hand towards him; and on his command, the force field extended to engulf the man as well.

A tad confused, Mufflin looked around him before slowly lowering his book. He then turned one misaligned eye to Kyle—and after a moment of putting two and two together, mumbled, "Er, thanks, suck-up," and set to his work again. Kyle smiled, feeling much like one adult sharing an umbrella with another on a rainy day.

"So why aren't _you_ joining in all the fun?" Mr. Mufflin asked in his usual bored-to-death tone.

"Hm?" The boy was surprised to hear the normally dull instructor start a conversation.

"You're not over there tearing up the place with Purple Kid and Raccoon," Mufflin observed as he failed some student on a quiz.

Kyle looked through the shield in time to see Chum Chum being hurtled toward it and bouncing off like a ball (grinning idiotically the whole time). "You think I want to be a part of _that?_"

Mufflin looked up as the action was repeated with Fanboy. "I feel ya." He groaned and took a much-needed swig of his coffee. Seeing an identical expression on Kyle's face, he held out the mug.

"Want some?"


	3. Winston's Wizard Supplies

**Winston's Wizard Supplies**

"Oooooooh!"

"Wowwww!"

"What's _that_ do?"

"_No!_" Kyle snatched the four overly curious hands and pulled his friends along the cobblestone walk.

Still holding their hands, he pointed Fanboy's fingers towards a cottage-like building on the corner. "We're going _there._ And then I'm taking you straight home."

Eyes dilated, Fanboy and Chum Chum gazed in awe at the old-fashioned shop Kyle pulled them toward. A rickety wooden sign designated it as "Winston's Wizard Supplies", which made them bounce with uncontrollable excitement. Kyle stopped just short of the door and turned to look at the other boys sternly.

"Now let's get a few things straight. You are to keep your grubby little gloves to yourself. Do not touch _anything_—no matter how shiny, or sparkly, or glowing. I don't care if any of the merchandise looks you in the eye and _asks_ you to touch it—which some of it may. Are we clear?"

He was met with rapid, eager nodding.

"Good," the wizard pushed open the heavy, creaking door and strode in. "Because I am _not_ babysitting you."

Though in fact, that was _exactly_ what he was doing. Fanboy and Chum Chum were on one of their hyperactive streaks that day, and Oz's mother was meeting with friends at her home. With the racket in the Fanlair right above them, Oz had foreseen disaster and convinced the boys to leave for the day. And with the Frosty Mart (rather _conveniently_) closed, what better way to spend their day out than to "Ooh! _Ooh!_ Please, oh-please-oh-please-oh-please-_oh-please_ Kyle take us to the wizard store with you"? Knowing it was no use declining; Kyle, without answering, had listlessly fetched his longest broomstick and ordered them to straddle it behind him.

This particular flight to the wizard world had been the longest one of his life. It was especially fortunate that today there was no air traffic, for Kyle had been given enough distractions as it was.

"Are we there yet?"

"Can we go faster?"

"Where are we going again?"

"Can I drive?"

"Did ya hear that? My ears popped!"

"Does this thing do tricks?"

"Look, no hands!"

"I have to go to the bathroom!"

Kyle repeatedly had to order them to sit down, keep their hands on the broom at all times, stay upright, and to not shift or redistribute their weight. "…or I'll turn this broom around and we'll go home!"

But he knew that was not an option. He needed dragon saliva, and there was no more putting it off.

He now cursed his eagerness at starting the alchemy potion. _'Next time,'_ the conjurer mentally noted as he watched Fanboy and Chum Chum bounce off the walls, _'make sure you have _all_ the ingredients before starting.'_

"Simmer down before you break something!" he called out to them in the semblance of a parent. As he tried his best to tune them out while scanning the alchemy shelves, the junior superheroes were making a point to "ooh" and "ahh" at every item in the little shop. Kyle somehow still managed to find what he was looking for, and trudged to the checkout rubbing his temples.

"We're leaving," he soon announced with eyes on the exit, newly purchased bottle of spit in hand. To Kyle's surprise, his friends complied without being told twice. They followed the young wizard out to the sidewalk and patiently waited as he attempted to summon his broom.

"Ah," Kyle sighed after snapping his fingers fruitlessly, "it works better when I have both hands free, for some reason." He held the dragon saliva out to Fanboy. "Hold this, will you?"

Fanboy extended his hands to receive it, but his expression changed as if in realization. He retracted his hands before contact, in time for the bottle to fall and shatter on the ground.

With a foolish smile Fanboy showed Kyle his empty palms. "Oops, almost forgot: 'Don't touch anything.'"


	4. The Galaxy Hill

Author's Note: This one's just a cute Chum Chum and Kyle friendship moment.

**The Galaxy Hill**

Despite his bitter exterior, Kyle did have an appreciation for aesthetics. His pagan roots included a history of magic derived from nature, and so a love for the world around him had found its way into his heart.

With this being a particularly starry night, the young wizard felt a longing to try a new, rather whimsical spell that required a good view of the night sky. With all the buildings crammed around his own, Kyle was in fact pleased to take a refreshing walk to the edge of Galaxy Hills.

Delightfully, the outskirts of town belie an open expanse of grassy terrain, which culminated to a modest but ideal mound for viewing the celestial bodies. The boy strolled through the grass, and began an incantation at the same time he began his ascent. He held a hand to the sky palm-up, and made a stroking motion with his fingers. Magical energy twinkled in his hand, mimicking the shape of a star. Once he reached the top of the hill, he held the "sparkle" toward the moon, allowing it to absorb light in the way a glow-in-the-dark novelty to would. Kyle then cupped his hands around it, shading it, and smiled at the glow.

Pleased with himself, the wizard kicked back and settled into the grass, laying the sparkle beside him. But just as he did so the grass rustled a few feet away on his other side, and he jumped a little when a head appeared.

"Kyle?" Chum Chum scrambled to get the rest of his short body onto the top of the hill. "Hey there, buddy! What are you doing here?"

Kyle let out a heavy sigh. "Where's Fanboy?"

"Quality one-on-one time with Oz. So for me, it was either this or wash Mama Harmounian's goat."

"Well, I'm here to perform a very complex charm." Kyle took out his wand to aid in the bluff. "Stay on your side and don't bother me."

"You know," Chum Chum continued as if he had not heard the last three words, "I call this the Galaxy Hill. I like to think that maybe the town was named after it." He lay back and gazed up at the sky. "From this hill, it feels like you can see the whole galaxy."

Kyle scoffed.

"Like see?" The younger child pointed to a constellation. "There's the Big Dipper—and there's the Little Dipper, and the Mega Dipper, and the Really Tiny Dipper, and the Ursula Minor—"

"Enough! You know nothing of astronomy."

"Of course I do!" Chum Chum asserted, lifting his shirt and pointing to his belly. "I don't know what brought up this subject, but see, here's the GI tract, and that's the large intestine, and the small intestine, and the mega intestine—"

"Not _gastronomy_—oh, forget it."

Chum Chum dropped the subject for a short time—much to Kyle's relief—but just so he could gaze at the cosmos for a moment and gain inspiration for his next piece of conversation.

"You know what?"

"Very. Complex. Charm. Chum Chum," Kyle reminded, waving his wand haphazardly.

"I've always had this secret wish."

"It's a charm that, um, might backfire," Kyle improvised, "and…turn whoever is near me into a woodpecker."

"It's so secret, I've never even told Fanboy," the sidekick went on. "And I tell him _everything._"

"And that would be _you,_" the wizard hinted with growing impatience. "Woodpeckers can't drink Frosty Freezy Freeze."

"I've always wanted a star of my own."

Kyle blinked with mild surprise. He had never quite known either of his idiots to have such a…normal dream.

"Well," he decided to momentarily abandon his pretense of being preoccupied. "You can have a star named after you, you know."

"No," Chum Chum grinned with childish glee, "someday I want to have a star with me; that I can keep like a pet rock. I could play with it, and take it to the movies, and use it as a nightlight when I'm scared."

Disappointed, Kyle replaced his look of sincere curiosity with his usual unimpressed scowl. "Of course. You can't keep a star, you simpleton. It's an enormous ball of flaming gas! You'd burn the whole planet up! Honestly you and your fellow ninny have the most ridiculous ideas—a bathtub roller coaster, pretending you're a demolition pony, a Frosty Mart theme park—why can't you have more believable hopes and dreams?"

Only after his outburst did Kyle realize he now angrily towered over the little boy. Chum Chum, hushed, stared nervously up at him as if expecting further yelling. Kyle backed down to remove the impression, and waited for the little one to resiliently laugh it off and move on like he had always known Fanboy and Chum Chum to do.

But he had done something different this time. Chum Chum sat there, innocent eyes dilating with emotion.

And he started crying.

Kyle recoiled with guilt. As much as he claimed to dislike Chum Chum and Fanboy, he did have a certain softness in him when faced with tears—especially theirs. The conjurer shrank from him sheepishly and looked away—and it was then that he noticed the sparkle that still lay beside him in the grass.

Assuring himself that he had no other plans for what to do with it, Kyle picked up the star-like mass of magic and held it out to Chum Chum.

"Here," he said gruffly to save face.

The sobbing child looked up at the gift, and instantly the tears evaporated. Chum Chum ever so carefully took the sparkle into his own hands, and gazed at it as if all his dreams had suddenly been fulfilled.

"Glad you're happy," Kyle crossed his arms. "Now please do leave m—oof!" The wind was knocked out of him as he was forced to the ground in a tackle-hug.

"ThankyouthankyouKylethankyou!" Chum Chum ran the words together in his excitement. He mercifully removed himself from his beloved wizard and set off down the Galaxy Hill.

"I've gotta show Fanboy and Oz and everyone I know!"

In the seconds it took Kyle to catch his breath and speak again, his companion was a yellow-and-orange dot in the distance.

"Just don't get it wet!" Kyle called after him, although certain he was well out of earshot.


	5. Scar, Home Decor

**Scar**

"You know," Chum Chum commented after a long, painfully awkward silence, "it _was_ pretty cool."

"Shut up," Kyle was stony-faced. "Neither of you are to ever speak of this again—or else I'll give you a mark just like it."

"That sounds awesome!" Fanboy exclaimed. "But could you do some picture other than a toenail clipping?"

"I prefer to think of it as a crescent moon, thank you." The wizard's pale face was reddening.

"You should just wear your underwear on the outside like us," Chum Chum snapped his own waistband demonstratively. "Whenever _we_ fall out of our drawers during a wedgie, everyone just sees our costumes underneath."

Kyle crossed his arms. "One, that's idiotic. Two, my underwear would be more easily accessible for a wedgie that way. And three, I'd prefer that everyone did not know of my…um…" He buried his scarlet face in his arms.

"It's better than them seeing the scar on your bottom," Chum Chum offered.

Fanboy patted his embarrassed friend on the back. "Sometimes we wear bloomers too."

**Home Décor**

Mouth agape, Fanboy stood perfectly still and admired the several vicious-looking dragon heads mounted on the wall.

"How did you get those?" he asked, his eyes still glued to them.

"Oh, they're my father's hunting trophies," Kyle returned to the living room with freshly brewed tea. "He was a dragon slayer—defender of the royal family for years. That or an antique collector. I can't quite remember which."

"And that portrait," Chum Chum noted between bites of a crumpet. "You look so heroic."

"Ah, yes," Kyle turned toward it with the flair of a swelled ego. "My parents commissioned that from one of the wizard society's best painters when I was a toddler."

Finally tearing himself from the dragon heads, Fanboy furrowed a brow at the painting in confusion. "It looks like you _now._"

"The artist was a fortune teller on the side," Kyle explained. "She accurately depicted what I would look like at age twelve. Hair color's a little off, though."

"Why didn't they have a painting done of what you looked like _then?_" Chum Chum queried.

Kyle bit his lip—always an easy action for him with his large upper teeth. "That, well," he poured himself a top-off, "wasn't the only thing the painter foretold."

Author's Note: About "Scar"—we've seen Kyle's forehead under his bangs, and he has no scar like the character he's a parody of. So I thought that—knowing how lovably immature the show is—if he had a scar…it would probably be on his butt or something.


	6. Assignment, Believe

**Assignment**

"ManArctica Issue 30: compelling, riveting, and uh…" Fanboy flipped a great number of thesaurus pages. "Let's see; 'cool', 'cool'…Hey, why don't I just go with 'cool'? 'Cuz it's ManArctica!"

"We are _not_ doing our report on a comic book!" Kyle insisted.

"Well, it's better than what _you_ picked out," Fanboy snatched the novel from his friend's hands and looked disapprovingly at the title. "Romano and Gelatin. Sounds like yesterday's lunch."

"That's Romeo and Juliet. It's a classic, and I think it would be perfect for our assignment."

"I hate real books and love stories," Fanboy groaned. "Why can't we write comic reports—or movie reports—for school?"

"Because," Kyle swiped the book back and began to wipe it with his shirt, as if freeing it from whatever was undesirable on Fanboy's hands. "The written word makes us use our imagination. It's exercise for the brain that _you_ could certainly use."

"But comics and movies are more fulfilling. They provide satisfying stimulation for the visual lobes."

Kyle looked up in bewilderment—almost doubting that those words had come from Fanboy, even though they were the only two in the room.

The young fan grinned. "_Who_ needs mental exercise, you say?"

He frowned when his project partner massaged his temples in stress. "What's wrong, Kyle? You always want me to act smarter."

"Yes but—I guess…" Kyle broke off and cracked open the book.

Fanboy gasped. "You like me better the way I am! I knew it all along!"

Kyle groaned as he was wrapped in a stuffy hug. "Two pans of walnut-free brownies and Mr. Mufflin still pairs me with _him._"

"Ooh, look Chum Chum!" Yo exclaimed. "How about Romeo and Juliet? It's a classic love story!"

**Believe**

"This is ridiculous."

"Oh come on Kyle! You're gonna miss it!"

Kyle continued walking. 'Don't look back. Don't say another word to them. 'Twill only encourage them.'

"Got him all cleaned up," Oz returned with Precious in tow. "Mother let me use Mitzi's pet tub."

"Got the gum all chewed up!"

"Seriously, you sure about this?"

"Of course!" Fanboy assured as Oz presented the pig. "Chum Chum's done this before."

"Okay people. I must have silence." Chum Chum approached Precious ceremoniously, spat his gum out into his hands, and plastered it onto the plastic wings Fanboy held out to him.

Kyle was halfway down the ladder when the pig whizzed past him, swooping out of the Fanlair before managing to glide a horizontal path and soar upward into the sky.

"Told you so!" Chum Chum yelled out the door.

Oz shook his head. "Seriously, a skeptical wizard? Now I've heard everything."


	7. Teams

**Teams**

"Okay, so we have me, Chum Chum, Kyle, and Yo playing." Fanboy paced, counting on his fingers and straining to calculate. "So, we have to somehow divide the five of us into two teams. Man, I wish Oz would play. Six is an even number, right?"

"We already _have_ an even number!" Kyle snapped impatiently. "There are only _four_ of us!"

Fanboy sighed. "Okay, Kyle wants a recount. Let's see—Fanboy, Chum Chum, Kyle, Yo. Sorry, Kyle I got five again."

"Are you counting me twice again?" Chum Chum smirked.

"I didn't think so. Hold on; Fanboy, Chum, Chum—oh wait—yep, that's it. Those two-word names always mess me up."

"So how many people do we really have?" Chum Chum rather honestly asked.

"Let me see here—Fan, boy, Chum Chum—"

"Oh, forget the names!" Kyle interrupted.

"Sometimes I do."

"_No,_ just do a head count!"

"Oh, that might work." The young fan pointed to each of his friends in turn. "One, two, three. Hey, we do have an odd number."

Chum Chum inexplicably pulled a full-sized mirror from his cape and held it in front of his fellow hero.

"Oh! Four."

"Great!" Yo was eager to start. "Okay, I'll take Chu—"

"And me makes five!"

A collective groan.

"Enough of this!" Kyle jabbed a finger at each participant and counted. "One, two, three, four. Now let's pick teams!"

"I got Chum Chum!" Fanboy and Yo predictably exclaimed in unison.

"Chum Chum belongs to me!" Fanboy insisted.

"You can't own Chum Chum!" Yo countered.

"Oh, only because _you_ want to own him!" he snapped.

"Actually, I'd rather belong to Fanboy," Chum Chum interjected. "It seems much safer than being my own man."

"Oh Chum Chum! I have an Ice Monster Bun Bun for you if you join me." Yo produced the snack cake.

"No, buddy! Resist the vixen's temptation!"

"_Listen!_" Kyle stomped between them. "Let's regulate this!"

"Okay," Fanboy said slyly. "Superheroes versus non-superheroes." He placed Chum Chum by his side.

"Aw, but that's not fair," Yo complained. "The team with all the superpowers is sure to win."

"Not necessarily, Yo; I _am_ a wizard," Kyle remarked.

"That's it!" the crazed fangirl declared, snatching up the object of her affection. "Fanboy, you said you were a wizard once. Wizards versus non-wizards!"

"I've got a better idea," Fanboy countered, taking Chum Chum back and gently shoving Kyle towards Yo in exchange. "Boys versus girls."


	8. Again With Teeth

**Again With Teeth**

"Kyle!"

The introverted student was addressed every morning in this manner by his hyper, outgoing ninnies as they bounded into Mr. Mufflin's classroom.

He always pretended he was busy studying, though that charade never worked; whether it didn't fool them or they ignored it Kyle wasn't sure. He now entertained the thought as he futilely groaned and covered his face with an open book.

"Kyle? Kyle. _Kyyyllle._ Kyle? Kyle. _Kyle._ Kyle! Kyle. Kyle?"

"What?" He lowered the book to glare at Fanboy behind it. Grinning, way-too-close Fanboy. Who seemed to be oddly metallic today—Kyle pulled his head back to look at the fan's shiny mouth. It was a familiar shine…

"I got braces too!" Fanboy affirmed, seeing his friend's look of realization.

"Alright," the wizard turned back to his book, hoping—again in futility—that this would be the end of the conversation.

"And here's the best part: I asked my new orthodontist if he did Kyle Bloodworth-Thomason's braces too and he told me that yeah, you had been his patient since you came to the US—"

Kyle's eyebrows raised in shock. Galaxy Hills was the most ridiculous place he had ever heard of. Where _he_ came from, there was such a thing as "patient confidentiality".

"—and then I felt silly when he told me he was the _only_ orthodontist in town," Fanboy continued with a chuckle. "So now we can go to the orthodontist together!"

Kyle did not skip a beat. "_No._"

"I'm so excited!" Fanboy was oblivious to his friend's answer. "Getting to go with _two_ buddies—" —he hugged Chum Chum and Kyle— "—makes this whole 'being forced to get braces' thing much better!"

Now that, Kyle could understand. He'd had his braces put in at a young age, and had not had much choice in the matter. So he could certainly sympathize whenever hearing of other children being forced into difficult ordeals by parents/guardians. It was indeed quite a bother—

Remembering Fanboy and Chum Chum's home life, Kyle was suddenly confused. "Forced? By who?"


	9. Powerful

Author's Note: I was eager to present this year's present to my readers for my birthday, so here it is early.

**Powerful**

Kyle usually ignored what bizarre and unpredictable activities his two best friends were up to. Mostly because he considered himself too mature to participate in their idea of fun, but a little part of him was disappointed that their plans did not include him as often as he would (secretly) prefer. He knew it was because he repeatedly told them to leave him out of anything and everything they were doing, but he was too proud to admit that he did want to hear, every now and then, "Kyle! You wanna help us build our Brobdingnagitor?" or "Kyle! There's a seminar for superheroes on keeping their underwear clean. What time do you want to go?"

He was always certain to turn them down, but he did enjoy the thoughtful offer.

Of course, he couldn't tell them that. Give those two a kilometer and they would take a meter.

So today he buried his face in the Necronomicon and pretended not to notice his ninnies bouncing back and forth between their incredibly deep desks and the janitor's closet, trading one random item for another, pulling monkey wrenches out of one desk and stuffing sheet metal into another. As if that weren't enough, the hustling, gathering, and assembly of wood, steel, plastic, and glass continued all throughout the day. The wizard very honestly wondered what they were busy with; that they of all people remained behind in the school after dismissal.

It was two hours after school when his palantir informed him that the boys were at his door, their proud smiles indicating that they had successfully finished their strange project.

Kyle stepped outside reluctantly (and yet part of him did so with curiosity and eagerness) and noticed that Fanboy and Chum Chum were joined by Fanboy's robot, who was decked out with miniature rocket launchers and other intricate aeronautical gadgets—presumably the fruits of Fanboy and Chum Chum's labors.

"Hi Kyle!" Fanboy chirped. "Dollarnator's upgraded and ready to go!"

"Good for him," Kyle grimaced, predicting that if the boys were going on some sort of trip, he would have to hear all about it the next morning.

He then suddenly noticed the superheroes were ushering him along as if he had agreed to go with them.

"This won't take long," Chum Chum assured. "You're gonna love it!"

"What? I told you I was _not_ accompanying you to the Frosty Mart convention!"

"No no no," Fanboy tossed him inside the Dollarnator and crawled in after him, seating Chum Chum on his lap. "You'll be happy with this."

"Keep your hands inside until I have stopped," Dollarnator instructed, before removing his own robotic hands and tossing them inside. "5, 4—"

Kyle's eyes widened at hearing the countdown.

"—3, 2, 1!"

The robot launched into the air, with power that thrust the boys to the "floor" of the compartment. Kyle found himself unable to get up against such force, but another part of him was thankful about that; he felt he probably wouldn't want to see out the window. He already knew they were high enough for his ears to pop.

In no time at all, though, Kyle was rising from the floor—against his own will. He was—involuntarily levitating?

"Don'tcha love to be free of gravity now and then?" Chum Chum asked as he and Fanboy grabbed Kyle's arms and spun him around.

"We're—this—but—" Kyle sputtered, and caught a glimpse of their cosmic surroundings through the window. "_You return me to Earth at once!_"

"Just a minute," they insisted, and Kyle had no choice but to go along.

They landed in baffling time on a red, rocky landscape. The hatch opened, and the three boys took a breath of the Martian air that they didn't think to question.

Squealing "Whee!" Fanboy and Chum Chum sprang out of the Dollarnator and danced around light-footed on the planet's surface. After a comical musical number set to a disembodied show tune, each of them took one of Kyle's arms and began to pull him out.

"No," Kyle squeaked, and braced his legs against the sides of the compartment to hold himself inside.

"It's okay, Kyle," Chum Chum said gently. "We've been here before; we know what we're doing."

Kyle wasn't sure why he felt he was in competent hands, but there was a trustworthy air about them, so he gave in. He was led out onto the dusty ground, and the superheroes held their dear wizard until he was oriented enough to float-stand on his own with the limited gravity.

"Whatever we're doing here, let's get it done and go home," the conjurer asserted, trying his best to be patient.

"You don't get it?" Fanboy grinned. "This is Mars! It's a different planet."

"I knew that years before you did," Kyle said flatly.

"You're on another planet!" Chum Chum chimed in, as if they were hinting at something.

"Yes, and I wish I could say this is the strangest thing you've ever done," Kyle retorted. "Now what's your point?"

"Well, shortly before we learned Mars was another planet," Fanboy announced, "we realized you're a real wizard."

Kyle did not know whether to be irritated that it took the ninnies so long to understand that last fact, or relieved that they finally did.

"And we remembered something you said the day we met," Chum Chum added. "You wanted to be 'the most powerful preteen wizard on the planet.'"

A new look came over their friend's freckled face.

"We didn't know how to make you better at magic," Fanboy explained, "so we thought that since you didn't say 'the planet' had to be Earth, we could give you what you wanted _this_ way."

"We checked; there are no other preteen wizards here," declared Chum Chum. "Enjoy your title."

Kyle float-stood speechless, and though he bounced gently off and on the ground, he was floored by the situation.

"You spent the entire school day trying…to make my dream come true?"

Fanboy put an arm around him. "We made you a star, kid," he said in a voice reminiscent of a big-city movie director.

Kyle clasped his hands together, enraptured. His day might have been brightened if his ninnies had just _remembered_ one of his hopes and dreams, but never had he thought they—in their idiocy—would focus enough to actually fulfill one of his deep desires…

...and they had just presented before him his lifelong dream.

He must have unknowingly spoken this sentiment, because Chum Chum hugged his leg and told him, "We'd pay attention to you any day, buddy."

"It's not at all what I had in mind," Kyle's lip trembled, "but it's…" He finished the sentence with a rolling tear that floated off his face and drifted in the Martian space.

"Well, if you've had enough of your moment here, my éclairs might be getting cold back home," Dollarnator checked a built-in watch.

"You have a built-in oven; couldn't you have kept them in there?" Chum Chum opened the robot's interior and began to climb inside—

"Uh-oh…Fanboy, he's out of rocket fuel."

"Ugh—I'll call a tow ship."

Kyle lovingly watched as his friends took out their satellite phone (and launched the satellite they brought with it) and called the Saturn-based Hill Galaxies Towing.

"It might take a half-hour," Fanboy informed present company.

But at that moment Kyle felt like he'd be perfectly happy spending the rest of his life there with them.


	10. Fans

**Fans**

This enthusiastic wizard-in-training had always expected that one day he would be surrounded by an adoring audience, people who flocked to see the amazing conjurer's stupefying acts of magic. He dreamed that he would cause gasps and applause wherever he performed, taking a bow to countless cheering fans. Just like…

Sometimes it even brought him to tears to remember how he had tried, but never managed to succeed like Sigmund. The sorcerer was never impressed by him, but it wasn't as though he usually tried to impress him; Sigmund used to seek him out just to look down his nose at Kyle's accomplishments. To haughtily taunt him, and leave with his head held higher and Kyle's confidence lower. Sigmund never coveted anything of Kyle's, except perhaps…well…

But they were just _pretending_ to be his assistants.

_But_ when they appeared as his school chums—as his…Then Sigmund seemed jealous of his…

But still, Kyle ached for the praise and attention that his rival bragged about. Even though he did have the adoration of a certain two fans…But Sigmund had countless people marveling at him everywhere he went.

Though he missed the Milkweed Academy for Wizards ever since he'd been expelled, Kyle had hoped that maybe things would be different in the US, since he had heard that wizards were scarcer there. This might make a wizard feel like a fish out of water, but Kyle saw it as an opportunity. If America was not quite as familiar with wizards, then there was no precedent. He could shine.

And so he spent weeks on his introduction for his first day at his new school. He practiced in front of a mirror again and again, wrote out and rehearsed every detail. And when the day came, he felt like the universe was gathered in the classroom, watching him appear in smoke and lights.

He gave his new school chums the best performance he possibly could…and they didn't notice. They sat, bored and dazed, except for—

No, no, not those two. Anyone's attention but theirs. The only students giving him the applause he had asked for were two ridiculously costumed boys, cheering wildly, one slamming up and down the desk next to him, begging the teacher to _please_ let him sit here, we want him to sit next to us because he's so cool and so good at playing wizard…

_Playing_ wizard. How dare they? After that incredible show right in front of their eyes, they couldn't get it through their heads that he was a _real_ wizard? A real wizard who had only minutes ago appeared in the room and conjured fireworks that went off without damaging the ceiling? How could they possibly think he was faking?

He had gone from being viewed as an incompetent wizard to being seen as not a wizard at all.

But as time went by, he realized he was also being considered something he wasn't at Milkweed.

A friend.

As much as he regretted meeting those two, he somehow could not imagine how alone he would feel in Galaxy Hills without them. Sure, there was the Necronomicon, the Scrivener Elf, and Kyle's supernatural pets; but none of them were his age, and none of them were quite as bouncy and cheerful and carefree…

But of course that was what he _hated_ about Fanboy and Chum Chum; they were immature, reckless, and nigh uncontrollable. However, they complemented him; their playfulness with his uptight air. They were his best friends, whether he liked it or not. He always yearned to be appreciated by the world's most renowned wizards, but instead these two self-dubbed superheroes were his biggest fans.

Sadly, not fans of his magic though. _That_ was what they loved about Sigmund—his baffling sorcery, whether they thought it was real or illusion. All of the conjurer's efforts, any respect he ever gained for his skill was always lost to Sigmund. Inside, Kyle was furious and frustrated that he couldn't even have the village idiots to himself. They had to fawn over the "dazzling" like everyone else. Fanboy and Chum Chum may not have even fully understood that there were sides to be taken in this, but Kyle felt as though it undermined his performance his first day at school. The show that first sparked their interest in him. The interest he repelled, but clung to.

Yet, when he thought more about it, he remembered that his dear dorks _only_ seemed to be interested in Sigmund's magic tricks. Not in Sigmund himself. Come to think of it weren't most of his fans that way? Kyle had never heard of his rival having actual friends, only fans who reaped the honor and rewards of attending his exclusive and extravagant parties, not often the pleasure of his company.

Kyle's fans had no clue he even _was_ a wizard, and they still loved him, so obviously it was _him_ they loved. And that was more than Sigmund could boast of. What was more, upon hearing of Kyle's friends, Sigmund…_faltered._ Something Kyle had never seen the dazzling Sigmund the Sorcerer do before.

Something was always telling him to stop comparing himself to Sigmund, but he couldn't help but feel victorious. And then, it all boiled down to something that startled him at first; something he sternly rejected…but could not forget.

He remembered all his failed attempts at readmission to his beloved academy (at least one of those failures being Fanboy and Chum Chum's doing), and then he recalled how those attempts, as of late, had become fewer and farther between. And the thought crept into him that…

…perhaps it was not only failure that kept him from returning to Milkweed.

Maybe it was also the success he'd found here.


End file.
